


Shoot

by Elijah_Dentwood



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Castiel, Edgeplay, Gunplay, M/M, Object Insertion, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-23
Updated: 2013-11-23
Packaged: 2018-01-02 11:01:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1055996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elijah_Dentwood/pseuds/Elijah_Dentwood
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for a prompt at the spnkink_meme at livejournal.</p>
<p>Dean attempts to teach Cas to shoot. Quite simply, gunplay.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shoot

Dean frowns when he aims his gun. He holds the cool metal of the gun with one hand, cups the bottom with the other to steady it. He doesn't narrow his eyes, but his gaze becomes fixed as the rest of the world slides out of existence. There is only Dean and the target to hit. 

Cas blinks as Dean fires his first shot. His only shot. 'Just like that,' Dean says.

He knows how to hold the gun, he's seen enough humans carry them. Dean slips in behind him, presses his body against Cas' as he firms Cas' grip and shows him how to hold his arms so they won't shift painfully when he squeezes the trigger. 

'Gently.' He can feel Dean's breath on his ear. His shot doesn't just miss the target, it misses the whole sheet. Erections are part of the realm of human experience Cas has deemed inconvenient. He has always understood them to be part of the sex act, not an unwanted distraction whilst he is learning to use a firearm (or last night, when he'd been sleepily reading a book from the Bunker's extensive collection).

'Watch me again' Dean says. He takes the gun from Cas' hand and he's able to slip around him and slip his arms down to cover his crotch. 

Dean lifts the gun and points down the range. He wets his lower lip with his tongue and lines up his shot. 

He turns to Cas, the steely concentration hardening his eyes. Cas freezes, looks at the gun cradled between Dean's hands. 

'On your knees' Dean says. 

Breathing is messy and difficult. Cas pulls in a sharp breath and begins to shake his head. Guns were nothing before; cold metal shaped by desperate, greedy humans. Bullets were nothing. He pulled them from his skin and tossed them aside and barely felt the flesh knit back together. Now he could die. Now he would bleed and bleed until he was pale and empty. 

Getting to his knees is hard because he can't take his eyes away from Dean. 

He balances himself out just as Dean shoves a rough hand into his hair, scrunches and pulls. He pushes the gun against Cas' lips, nudging against his teeth. Cas opens up and Dean slide it in. The gun tastes like blood and burning. 

Dean thumbs at the safety. There are bullets left in the gun. 

Cas swallows and feels the gun nudge at the back of his throat before Dean pulls it back. He looks up at Dean but Dean won't meet his eyes, is starting at his lips around the gun. Staring at his mouth like it's a target, like a – a _terrible_ , dreadful thing that is tearing him from the inside and will destroy him if he can't destroy it first. 

Fear tears through his lust like a blunt knife. 

'Cas?' Dean has fired, hit his mark again and now stares at Cas with amused concern. 

Cas blinks twice and meets Dean's eyes. 'I'm sorry Dean. What were you saying?' 

'Listen, Cas, I know this stuff is boring but-' 

'But I have to learn if I wish to defend myself as a human. I'm aware of that Dean.' 

Dean tips his head up in a kind of nod. He turns the gun in his hand and offers it to him. Cas steps closer to take it but he steps to close, and where before Dean would stiffen he leans forward just a little. One corner of his mouth edges up into a smile.

Cas kisses him. His left hand rests on Dean's shoulder, slides down the curve of his bicep. 'Oh' Dean says. It sounds smug and sure. Dean thinks he's got Cas all worked out, thought it even before his grace was lost. If he had been that kind of angel, he would have punished a human so arrogant to think he could _know_ the Heavenly Host. If he were that kind of human, he would be angry and petulant at the assumption. But he's Cas, and Dean is everything, and if Dean doesn't know every inch of his being (as he knows Deans) then he will make it so. 

Cas presses against Dean. He slips his free hand between them as they kiss and trails his fingers over the front of Dean's jeans. 

This was supposed to be a lesson, one Dean was more than happy to give. Cas can use a gun but his aim is fucking awful. But he's fast, agile, clever, things that Dean can't teach him. He'll hold his own as a Hunter, as a human if Dean can keep him alive long enough to learn. 

Cas' hand has slid over Dean's arm and his fingers are smoothing across the length of the gun, exploring with the same intensity as his other hand. The one circling around the hard outline of his dick. 

Dean's adaptable. Or not. A few months ago he was struggling to breathe under the weight of realizing that he loved Cas. A guy. A fallen angel. A fucking _dude_. The worst part had been that everyone had known before him, everyone being Sam...and Cas. He wanted to roll his eyes every time he thought of Sam, dewy-eyed and grinning the first time Dean had shown the tiniest scrap of affection to their dark-haired companion. The point was, Dean could get used to things. Sometimes fast. 

Dean pulls out of the kiss. 'Like 'em big and hard, huh Cas?' 

Cas just looks at him. Dean thinks he hasn't got the hang of innuendo, but Dean's brand is so lacking in subtly he may as well be slapping him in the face with his dick. He slips into a smile because Dean is smiling and he's pleased with himself. Of course he is. He has Cas' hand cupping at his balls. 

Cas puts his cheek against Dean's and speaks close to his ear. Partly because he's worried Sam might hear, partly because he's still getting used to talking this way. His feelings are natural (if confusing) and his physical reactions the same, but he can't shake the feeling that words are precious things. They are weapons. They are powerful and strange. 

'Dean.' It is his best word. It is the word he can always find when there are no others. It's infused with need and want and he knows that Dean can hear it, really hear it. 

Dean swipes Cas' hand away from his crotch and leads him out of the shooting range. They pass through the corridor. Into Dean's bedroom. 

He knows that if this goes wrong he'll hear Cas, in the middle of it all he'll know if he wants it to stop. Probably. Maybe. He slams the door behind them and lifts the gun, aiming steadily at Cas' chest. 

'Strip. On the bed. All fours.' 

Dean hears Cas' harsh outward breath and watches him strip. He steadies his gun and swallows hard. Cas positions himself on the bed, propped up on hands and knees. Dean smirks and moves closer. He trails the gun along Cas' side and across his ass as he moves to the foot of the bed. 

Cas' ass is perfectly presented. Cheeks parted enough to display his puckered hole and tightly drawn balls. He presses the gun against Cas' tail bone and drags down, pressing lightly at his entrance. Cas until then has pressed his teeth into his lower lip and now gives a gasped moan. 

'This gun is loaded, Cas. You want it inside you?' 

No reply. Dean climbs onto the bed on his knees. He leans forward and licks the strip of flesh he trailed with the gun. He flicks his tongue across the wrinkled flesh and dips his tongue into the small give before the ring of muscle. Cas is shifting under his ministrations. Dean knows he wants to be touched. The gun is put to one side. He grips Cas' thigh with one hand to steady himself and puts the other between Cas' legs. 

The head of Cas' dick is already slick with precome when Dean swipes his thumb across it. Cas jerks forward a little, startled and relieved that Dean is touching him. 

Dean rests his forehead against Cas' ass and strokes him in a steady rhythm. His own dick is uncomfortable in his jeans. It's straining against his zipper. 

'What's it gonna be, Cas?' 

Cas groans but he doesn't say anything. He won't ask for what he wants. He relies on Dean to pick it up, perhaps just goes without if he doesn't. Dean's gonna go for broke. 

'I'll do the talkin' for both of us, see if I can't figure out what you want' Dean says. He swipes his thumb over the leaking slit of Cas' dick and pulls his hand back through his legs.

'The gun got you all hot,' he says, stroking his thumb over Cas' hole then pressing lightly against it. There's a bit of give. 'and that noise when I-' Dean presses harder and Cas makes an 'mmf'. Dean nods, 'yeah, that.' 

There's lube in a drawer by Dean's bed. He coats his fingers and sinks them in and out of Cas until Cas' breathing pattern is ruined and his heart is racing. Cas is almost forming words when Dean begins to swirl his tongue between the slide of his fingers. Dean can guess at _please_ and half-blasphemies. 

The gun slicks up easily. Dean coats it generously in lube and considers Cas' hole, now gaping a little from the work his fingers have done. 

'Turn over.' 

Cas turns and leaves his legs open, knees hanging wide enough for Dean to fit between them. His lower lip is flushed from biting, mouth open and eyes eager. He's been denied seeing and he's greedy for it. Dean unzips his jeans and finally pulls out his dick, groaning at the release. 

Dean grabs a pillow and shifts it under Cas, raising his ass up at an angle. He trails the gun along the insides of Cas' thighs, up the length of his dick. Cas' dick is thick and uncut. Dean makes a circle of his finger and thumb, slides down the skin over the blood-flushed head.

'Safety's off' Dean says. He slides the gun over Cas' balls and down to his lube-slickened hole. It slides in easily. 

Cas' eyes flare wide as the cool metal slips inside him. He gasps and then again. He groans as it fills him and slides over his prostate, jolting pleasure directly to his dick. 'Dean!' 

Dean reaches up with his free hand and covers Cas' mouth. 'Shhh. You had your chance.' 

Cas stares at him and pushes down against the gun. 

'Feel good, getting fucked with my gun? You know I could shoot you, Cas.' He feels Cas' lips move slightly under his hand, 'shhh. No noises. No talking.' Dean pulls on every monster he ever pulled his gun, because God knows he can't mean it to Cas. 'I'll pull the trigger Cas, I swear.' 

He edges his hand away and pulls the gun out of Cas. 

Dean shifts between Cas' legs and lines his dick up. His dick is thicker than the gun but it's just the right amount of easy and tight to slide into him. 

He gives a few thrusts before lifting his gun, aiming square at Cas. 'Dean, please-'   
'Hush.' 

'I need you to-' 

Dean shakes his head. He shifts up until he's pressed against him and can press the gun in the middle of Cas' chest.

Each thrust is almost painful in it's intensity. Everything is too tight, too good. Cas wants to beg, finally. But now that the words want to come Dean won't let him. Dean presses the gun hard into his chest and he knows it will bruise, same as he knows he's careening towards release even without Dean touching his dick. 

'You gonna come when I tell you?' Cas nearly loses it when Dean says that. He digs his fingers into the bed beneath him. 

Dean is groaning and his thrusts are getting harder. 'C'mon Cas, wanna feel you come.' 

'Dean. Please, oh, it feels _so_...Dean!' Cas clenches hard around his dick and Dean watches him fall apart. His gasps and moans are worth the silence he's made Cas keep. Dean wraps a hand round Cas' dick and strokes him through the last few spurts of orgasm. 

When Cas' goes back to trying to breath Dean tosses the gun to one side and pulls out of Cas. Two strokes of his dick and he's covering Cas' hole in come. He pushes back inside him, eyes closing briefly as tiny shocks pulse through him.

After a few lazy thrusts he pulls out and flings himself down beside Cas. 

Dean yawns. 'You still gotta learn to shoot.'


End file.
